


The Great Pretender

by i_am_a_hog



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Finally, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, sweet babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 05:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_a_hog/pseuds/i_am_a_hog
Summary: Read the book yesterday, watched the whole show today. Have this! Post-show-revelations.





	The Great Pretender

**Author's Note:**

> I am Gay and I love One Soft Angel.

_“My need is such I pretend too much_

_I'm lonely but no one can tell”_

Freddie Mercury sang from the speakers of Crowley’s Bentley. Of course he did. Crowley was fairly sure that it wasn’t actually Freddie’s version of the song. The backing music sounded more like an older version of the song. But it had been such a long time since Crowley had heard anything other than Freddie Mercury, really. So it might as well be his actual version.

Not that Crowley cared a lot about the song, or about music in general at this time, but it always managed to take his mind at least partly off of what was preoccupying him, which at this very moment was the matter of Aziraphale. Actually, Crowley’s mind was preoccupied with Aziraphale most of the time but he did not have to admit to anybody, least of all to himself. The truth was, that ever since he had met the angel, there had been something pulling him towards him. And somewhere around two-thousand years into the existence of the world, Crowley had had realised that he really, _really_ , actually liked the angel. As ironic and cliché-ridden that was.

Of course he lied about it. After all, that was his profession. Well, theoretically, Crowley wasn’t so sure about that either. You usually got paid for a profession. It was what he did in any case. And he was good at it; so good, in fact, that he fooled not only Aziraphale, but also every other demon, angel, human, anything in-between and most impactfully himself as well. He fooled himself so flawlessly, that it took quite literally the end of the world to make him realise just how serious he had been about Aziraphale for just about four-thousand years now. So, once again Freddie was right.

_“Ooh ooh yes I'm the great pretender,_

_Just laughing and gay like a clown.”_

Gay indeed, Crowley grinned. There was no question about that, even though he himself barely liked to limit himself with labels in that way. But humans tended to love labels and Crowley was well aware that the occasions on which Aziraphale had been called one or the other degrading name in reference to his sexuality, could never be counted both hands. If you added your toes to the equation, it would come close to the number of times Shadwell alone had called the angel a ‘pansy’ in the last two weeks. So, really, there was no question about the gay part when it came to the accuracy of these words to Crowley’s situation. Or any other part for that matter. Except for the clown bit. That really was more Aziraphales territory, with all the pocket magic and such.

_Embarrassing_.

And oddly endearing. Crowley shook his head. For too long, he had made it a habit to rid himself of sentiments like that immediately, so now, trying to actually come to terms with them was more difficult than expected.

As he was driving down the narrow road towards the angel’s store, Crowley recalled all the times, he had given him a lift, remembering the slight twinge of regret that he had to let him go even though their time together was always so much fun. But now, Crowley wasn’t here to let go off Aziraphale. He was here to finally proceed with the ultimate temptation: himself. Perhaps that wasn’t a very elegant way to put it, but Crowley had put up with Aziraphale’s pining for long enough; not long after Crowley had come to that foolish conclusion, he realised that the angel had changed as well. Unfortunately, Aziraphale was much, _much_ worse at lying, so Crowley saw right through him. And he did nothing to discourage him. Quite the opposite, actually, because somewhere deep within, despite himself and his nature, Crowley had always hoped for a day exactly like this.

A Sunday. Well, not necessarily, but a sunny day nonetheless. A nice day where it would finally just be the two of them, not a worry about right or wrong in the whole world, everything the same as always and then a bit better. Crowley always envisioned the two of them having lunch. And they had done that. And Aziraphale had been there, eyes big and full of feelings Crowley knew too well by now. Being an angel, Aziraphale did not feel these feelings, so much as he embodied them. His entire body – not just the body language but the way he glowed when happy or excited, and appeared more dull when sad – expressed his feelings. And Crowley knew Aziraphale had to be radiating emotions as well, because as a demon he had certainly not lost his sense for love. Frankly, it disgusted him most of the time, so he would have noticed it in Tadfield, had not his angel been there, at his side, radiating it louder and clearer than any other source Crowley had ever been subjected to. So he was surely not to blame for missing the _other_ love.

So they had gone to lunch. And then, they had parted ways. This was actually not how Crowley had hoped that day would play out, but it had only been 3:26 and there were still eight hours and thirty-four minutes in the day. So after dropping Aziraphale off at his shop with the usual twinge of regret, after driving home and spending a meagre twenty minutes and three seconds scowling at his plants, because frankly, there was nobody else to scowl at and at least the plants showed some kind of reaction, he decided to drive all the way back to Aziraphale’s and bother him some more. Preferably forever.

As he pulled up at the side of the road, Crowley took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Go time!

_“Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal”_

Freddie sang and he rolled his eyes. _Too real._

“Angel?” he called, as soon as the door had closed behind him. He had taken to calling Aziraphale that as a rather cheap attempt at flirting, but seeing the way, Aziraphale reacted to it – big smile, wide eyes, and a pulse of radiating love – had helped to make it an unshakable habit.

“Did you forget something?” Aziraphale called from the back room. Grinning, Crowley stepped through the cluttered space of the store.

“Sort of. I was wondering –“ he leaned against a book-shelf, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head, “If I might tempt you to one more thing today.”

Aziraphale blushed and visibly suppressed a smile. Crowley knew he had just about won already.

“That depends entirely on the temptation.”

As he got up from his no doubt interesting reading, smoothing down the front of his waistcoat in a manner that was just so _Aziraphale_ , Crowley resisted the urge to stick out his tongue and taste the air for an appetiser.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Crowley said instead. “Why not start with –“ he lifted a hand and took a step forward to run his fingertips over the angel’s cheek gently, “A simple touch.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replied, slightly out of breath and very flustered. “Why not, indeed.”

Somewhere in the background, the old gramophone was playing a tune – _The Great Pretender._ Of course. And suddenly, Crowley knew with certainty that this was the version he had been thinking of before. Roy Orbison. What a voice! Too bad, that man had gone to heaven. Suffered enough perhaps.

A touch at Crowley’s side pulled him back into reality. He was still caressing Aziraphale’s cheek, and the angel was actually pulling him closer.

“You know?”

“Of course I know, I’m not actually blind! I just wear the glasses for fashion. Are you _aware_ how you look at me? Or that you basically _leak_ your feelings, angel.”

And Aziraphale reacted exactly how Crowley had hoped. A small hitch in his breath, the smile finally breaking through, his eyes holding Crowley’s gaze.

“I didn’t think you…” he uttered softly, never finishing the sentence because firstly, he didn’t need to, they both knew what he was going to say and secondly, Crowley kissed him.

Crowley had never actually thought about what kissing an angel would be like. He was good at shoving those kinds of thoughts away and most of the time he had bigger things to worry about.

But it was certainly… something. In a good way. Not quite describable with the vocabulary of a demon.

They broke apart too quickly for Crowley’s taste, but he was willing to accept that for his angel.

“That was… that certainly was heavenly.”

_“I'm wearing my heart like a crown,”_ Roy Orbison sang and Crowley nodded.

“Sinfully so?” he asked and the lovingly judging glance Aziraphale shot him was exactly as expected.

Paradoxical and beautiful, just like everything else about their relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> Ayeeee umm I always love kudos and especially comments. Leave me some! (or prompts for more of this stuff?!)


End file.
